Little Master
by Silly Pink
Summary: Post fist anime season.Sebastian returns Ciel's soul and his life but in the wrong body.It becomes a high risk game to possess Ciel's soul and hide that the former lord is now female.Will sebastian give up ceil's soul to protect his own existence?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Game Set

_Silly Pink_

One hand lingered over the breast pocket, proceeding to the waltz of forefinger and thumbs as they unfastened the buttons, and both right and left reunited to remove the tail coat. Ten fingers shone like bone in the sickly light of the waxing moon moving with a predetermined purpose; to push back the impeding sleeves of the exposed tailored shirt. In satisfaction they flexed finished with this task and eager for the next.

Done away with all necessary preparations, the hands were not left idle. As Sebastian commanded one slender, greedy claw delved into the esophagus, his eyes rolling back as the rest of his body slashed out against the invader; but with haste it locked around its objective, the restless vengeful soul, lain in the otherwise empty abdomen. Closed in a fist armed with black nails the ungloved hand removed the prize.

Before the demonic Sebastian now was a corpse similar in the late Ciel's likeness, unintentional in the scheme of natural design. She frowned limply in death at Sebastian, preserved beautifully, immaculately groomed, and her hair cropped perfectly to match what she was to become.

Without hesitation now the sheer and fluttering soul, like a strip of fine silk was placed on the edge of her pried open lips. Sebastian guided it with little difficulty through her jaws and into the body where upon finding itself a new home, the soul whisked away from his grasp and embezzled itself somewhere unseen within the corpse.

Immediately Sebastian retracted his arm while as he did so the flesh reanimated and flushed, the soul within orchestrating body functions. The organs softened with new life and the bare body beside the demon accepted the first breath it had taken in a long while. Her eyes flickered open and Ciel's penetrating gaze bore out of them.

"Se…bastian…" Vocal cords twirled in confusion.

Ciel tasted something bitter in her mouth.

Filth removed from his hands and onto the discarded coat, the helpful butler replaced his gloves and eased Ciel into an upright position. "Welcome back, Ciel-sama."

"I'm dead," she argued. The master's gruff tone deepened the female pitch of her new voice.

"Are you?" Sebastian smirked. He procured a fresh outfit from his nearby traveling valise for the young master to clothe herself in against the night's somber chill. "I'm afraid your adventure has not yet ended." To secure the chest it was wrapped tightly with bandaging and atop the next layer was a starched shirt decorated with an embroidered vest in hues of blue and a cream ribbon neckpiece. The pants were like Sebastian's uniform but a deep navy and fitted to size, matching the color of the cape covering the ensemble, lined with black satin and clasped together with pearl shaped ivory buttons.

Completed with dark knee socks and thin leather boots, along with the usual amenities: a top hat, thin leather boots, and Ciel's eyepatch; Sebastian's master was the spitting image of the proper and menacing child he was before. And she could easily be taken as the Lord Phantomhive although the malnourished body was gaunter around the cheekbones.

Ciel pouted brassily at his butler. "It's a cruel joke to make a healthy young boy into a woman, Sebastian." She wiped away some of the filth gathered around her mouth with a single gloved hand, grabbing her cane the butler proffered with the other.

"I planned otherwise," the demon assured her. "Your body thief seems to want Ciel Phantomhive desperately. The culprit was most disappointed however to find you empty."

She tensed excitedly at the challenge. "I suppose they will be looking for my soul then."

Sebastian's enthusiastic silence was in accordance with his master's. The tall man's hand descended and clasped Ciel's own, the fabric of the gloves sighing in shushed tones against the other for a brief moment. Five fingers of each hand interlocked in unspoken kinship, netted together, bones stacked against the other's bones, entwined in ligaments and cushioned by cartilage.

"Another game then." Ciel replaced himself as the king along the edge of the metaphorical chess board.

**AN: Welcome to my world. Ahaha :) I almost fell into a pit of details when it came to describing the young master's adorable victorian clothing. The top hat, I wasn't able to say without dragging along the description of the outfit further is tied to his chin with ribbon, I couldn't decide whether it should be blue or cream colored, with the rim flipped up along the sides in contact with the ribbon, which laid flat atop the top of the hat. The ribbon and the hat made from materials with similar texture shone equally as bright in the dimly lit waxing moon night. See what I mean? It's how I envision Sebastian's character, incredibly detailed with a spotless performance when it comes to taking care of his master. And this master he adores so much he brought back to life for the sake of a game... or did he? I don't know yet either. And a thought from the author, I included Ciel's cane grudgingly. Canes are not fashionable but silly, unless for medical purposes. Even then there's walkers, power chairs, and crutches. And with that, chapter one is finished. **


	2. Chapter 2

I do not claim to own Kuroshitsuji. I love it though.

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Sebastian was a scared man- or rather- a scared demon, for what ailed the hearts of men could not compare the selfish fear of a creature from such dark natures. Guns and mortal threats bore no risk to Sebastian whom without physical form could still exist to plague needy sinners; but to loose his very existence that could not be reformed like so many simple human souls, his spiritual remains fouled by vengeful shinigami, to have no thoughts or plots, no sense of taste, or sense at all- something that no being could imagine for that state itself requires no imagination- he was scared of becoming nothing.

Ceil was admirable, able to acknowledge that this would be his fate once consumed, with a chance for reincarnation the same as Sebastians- none- and to pursue this path nonetheless successfully… for shame. Sebastian was in comparison inadequate to his human master.

And though he wanted nothing more than the wondrous soul of his Ceil to return to the demonic chasm within Sebastian, where all delectable souls reside, should the one tracking the boys soul be far too superior an opponent for Sebastian to face, as his instincts suspected it was, he would leave Ceil to the hunger of the wolf an flee, himself intact.

He could see Ceil's new face as it came to the revelation that he was sacrificial meat in Sebastian's scheme. And even so the lips would curve to smile ever innocent and understanding. And Sebastian would leave feeling guilt he should not be capable of and the loss of his best meal. Perhaps it was more regret than guilt.

But one soul was not equivalent to Sebastian's self proclaimed worth.

The demon grinned feeling superior and resolved with this internal argument; characteristically smirking still he served the young master his afternoon refreshment.

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"_Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth, unapt to toil and trouble in the world,_

_but that our soft conditions and our hearts should well agree with our external parts?"_

_(Taming of the Shrew)_

_xxxxxxxx_

Ceil crossed her legs- nay they should be open, knees apart commanding space and presence- and they would be were it not for the gap between her thighs that although not a sight usually to be seen she thought the world would stare and know that this body only masqueraded as a boy. If she placed an arm to drape over her upper thigh so that the hand attached rested conveniently over the spot wanting to be concealed they- the onlooker- would then notice the effeminately delicate digits and the softened skin around thin knuckles that surely was not due to her youth but to the womanliness of her body. From there eyes travelled up the limbs, across her concealed chest and over shoulders- made from pretty little bird bones it seemed, and onto the face that if you really examined the jaw line and the mantle you saw it lacked its former developing masculinity.

Insecurity made the resurrected Phantomhive paranoid; time made this feeling grow exponentially larger.

Is this really I, thought Ceil, pondering over a reflection backwards in the silver tea spoon with which he'd just stirred into the mixture four more cubes of cane sugar- each dissolving slowly into the tea until their existence was no longer. How quickly the tea devoured them. He continued with his thinking; Sebastian is like tea.

"Something troubling the young master?" Sebastian dutifully asked.

"Nothing— The Viscount' tea has poor flavor."

"It is indeed regrettable that his hospitality did not include high quality teas, my Lord." The sugar cubes went to waste as Sebastian took from Ceil the still full cup from the table before the young Lord since it was made clear that the beverage would not be touched otherwise.

Ceil of course should be accommodating for his less that humbled host. "The fragrance wasn't the worst however." But no more than that.

Moving on to other matters: "I've been unable to tack down the servants, save for Finnian who's left quite the disturbance in his wake- the others are more discreet being military trained- but I've penned letters of invitation to resume work should their locations become known. I've taken the liberty of also sending some reassuring correspondence to old acquaintances should we happen to come across them in our work. And the plans for rebuilding your estate for the _second_ time are going swimmingly—."

"Leave it be. I've no need for my own mansion. I expect to be finished with this business quickly and the Viscount is exceedingly accommodating."

"My Lord…" The butler began before Ciel resumed once more.

"There were no plans in our contract for me to return to life and I'd hoped not to return to these god forsaken streets. I belong _to you, _Sebastian." The Earl looked to her butler with unspeakable longing that was so intense the degree could not be calculated. Ceil could not be sure, for one is not conscious of their nonexistence, but it should have been better than this living world she'd formerly left behind. Mayhap Sebastian thought she was a stickler for the fine print in contracts.

Deep sienna eyes, borderline red, looked troubled. "Of course, My Lord."

There seemed to be a disconnection in the confidence in the girl's voice and in her body language. Same for Sebastian's demeanor and expression. The room was filled with personal tensions so thick that anyone joining them would feel unwelcome just from the mix of energies about them. Only an idiot would insist on joining them.

And so the Viscount proceeded to walk in.

**AN: and so... second chapter. Well the good stories always start out slow. Does it make you curious for what comes next? I am, i could use some interest so go along with this bland. it is what it is, and it was neccessary- chapter two is the reason for sebastian's actions in chapter one. and blah biddy blah blah blah i'm blathering- is that the word? i dont know, i just really like alliteration. :)**


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